Ghost Hunters
by 10000reasons
Summary: Four ghost hunters investigate the haunted house of a baron that lived many years ago in the Civil War. They go in in search of the supernatural, to prove that the afterlife lives among them...but they find more proof then they can ever want.


I wrote this knowing I had to throw something out there, while I was unable to write. I also wrote this because my pride was challenged that I couldn't write horror. This is also a glimpse in another project. I've been writing a lot of mini projects and some on my main, but when the big one is done, this is what's coming next. I've tried to finish the main project before I went here, but sometimes you just need to take a break form all the tactical talk and political jargon and just enter a whole other world that doesn't concern the other. It helps get you back with a fresh mind.

Warning: very disturbing content.

X X X X

Thunder, wind; the strike of the clock at midnight. In this case it was a phone. Add some howling, some ghostly moans, and whatever sets the mood of terror and it all was something you would find in a Halloween film. Not this time. This time it was real. And this time…they would prove it.

A blond-headed, heavy-set male stirred in his sleep and picked up the phone from his desk. "Eureka." He smiled and started typing away at his computer, setting up the little gadget plugged into his computer. He turned around. His friends were still asleep.

"Hey! Hey! Wake up!" He said in a whisper. One of them started moving and guarded his eyes from the computer glare.

"What? Dude?"

"Its midnight," He smiled with an evil smirk. Setting the tone of what they were about to do. His friend smiled with him. "Ready?"

"Hell yeah," Was the reply. He shook the rest of the party awake and while they were groggy, they were quickly up and about as they were told. "It's midnight."

The gadget was done, and the go-pros were charged. The Geiger counter was ready along with the flashlights and extra batteries. Whatever they needed for…an encounter… But mostly proof of one.

"So, is the headset ready?" Asked the second friend.

"Yeah," replied their computer savvy friend. He hooked everything up then turned on the cameras. He stared at the camera then smiled as he saw his image on the computer screen. "Okay, eight hours of battery life, bro."

"How do we know when we find a…ghost," Asked the third friend. He was darker skinned than the others. He made a ghostly gesture with his hands then laughed.

"Trust me," Said the one at the computer, "We'll know."

A female, a red head with long hair, positioned herself next to the computer. "You sure this is it, though?"

"Oh this is it," Replied the first, taking the headset and gear. "Ready guys?"

The rest started gearing up. "I was born ready," the darker one replied. "This time, we're going to get some real proof."

"And we'll see who's laughing after that," Added the female with a smile. Her party smiled with her. But a frown came upon her face. "But is this really a good idea? They don't say nobody comes back form this place for a reason. What if…"

Her friends stopped and listened. "What if what?"

"What if it's just home to a serial killer?" She asked.

The geek tapped his computer, "I'll file a report. Duh. Your death will be avenged and everyone will be heroes."

"Or dead," She added, unsatisfied by the answer.

"You can chicken out if you want to," Replied the first.

"Yeah, we'll take care of this. Stay with Chunky if you want to."

"No way!" She replied, "I'm a hunter too. I'm coming with you."

They opened the van doors and turned on their flashlights. The rain wasn't coming down yet, but the thunder and wind was strong.

"Good luck!" The geek shouted before laughing evilly.

He watched the feed of all three hunters. "Alright, com check you guys. This is Hunter Base, over"

They ran into the house. "This is Ghost Bane, coms good." The first said.

"Banshee, coms good," The female followed.

"Night owl, all good homie," The last chimed in.

The one known as Hunter Base typed away at his computer. "Alright, you guys are live. Ghost Bane, go ahead."

Ghost bane faced his go-pro. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. This is Ghost Bane with the crew. Banshee, Night owl, and our specialist over in the Hunter Base. We're coming to you live in The Baron's Manor to investigate the supernatural presence of the Baron who once lived here hundreds of years ago. Story is, during the Civil War era, there was a slave owner here who would beat his slaves after dragging them down to his basement. Every day, there would be a slave not pulling his weight, and he'd take them down to the basement and beat them with his cane. Some of them...even died in there. Well, one day, one of the slaves decided to stand up to this guy and went down to the basement with him and another slave he was about to beat. He managed to take the cane and beat the man to death with it. All the slaves ran free and he was long gone. One slave had returned to get a valuable that the Baron had taken from her. She went down to the basement, which was where the Baron had stolen it before beating her, and found pentagram drawn on the floor with candles and all that crazy shit with it. Then she saw the Baron finishing a ritual. The pentagram created a portal to hell where an army of ghosts had nearly killed her. Now they kill all who would dare enter the house. Which, despite her warnings, became the death of several other slaves as well as some white people who tried taking custody of it."

"Man, my great great grandparents were slaves," Night Owl commented, "But they worked in the cane fields. This is some crazy shit right here."

"Well maybe if we see the Baron, he'll go after you and give us time to run," Banshee smirked.

Night Owl frowned at her. "You hear this internet? She's bein' racist."

"But you love me anyway," Banshee smiled innocently.

Night Owl shook his head. "That don't mean you gotta be racist."

A loud creak made them freeze. They looked around and saw a door wide open. Ghost Bane slowly approached the open door.

"Oh my god, is that the basement?" Banshee asked timidly.

"I think it is," Replied Ghost Bane.

"White people first, if he sees you guys maybe he'll be cool," Night Owl said, stepping behind Banshee.

"What was that about being racist?" Banshee asked with glare.

Night Owl smiled and shrugged. "Well, it got me thinkin'."

"Okay enough about the Civil War. I'm going down myself. If I have to run, I don't want you blocking the stares," Ghost Bane sighed.

"Alright. You go, Ghost Bane," Banshee pumped her fist.

"Yeah, do it for all the black people who died here," Night Owl joked.

Ghost Bane shook his head. "Yeah whatever." He looked through the door and saw the old wooden stares. They looked rotten and ready to break. He took a deep breath and said to the camera. "You guys ready? Because we're going down." He started up his Geiger counter and descended down the stairs. Each step was a long creak and an uneasing sense of dread. The railings were covered in webs with spiders still crawling around and housing them. Ghost Bane made a mistake to try and use the railing. The feeling of the webs made him uneasy and stop a bit to wipe his hand off and kill any spiders that may have crawled on him. the movement was so sudden that all his weight had gone onto a weak step and caved him in. He fell through with a scream and his two companions ran after him to see if he was okay.

Night Owl hesitated to see the spiders all over the railings but knelt down and shouted. "Dude! Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm okay!" He yelled back, dusting himself off and slowly getting up. "I landed on something soft, fortunately. He heard a crunch beneath his feet. "And I guess a little…" he shined his flashlight on it to see a broken arm under his foot then started the scream again. "Holy shit!"

"What?" Banshee shouted

"What is it? The Baron?" Night Owl shouted. "Hold on I think I have some rope!"

"Guys, there's dead bodies everywhere around here! They look like they've been here for a long time!"

"Hey what's going on I lost, Ghost Bane!" Hunter Base shouted.

"Dude, he's stuck in the basement. The stairs gave out on him and he found dead bodies! I'm getting some rope to get him out!" Night Owl shouted.

"Dead bodies? Are you serious?" Hunter Base asked. "Cool! So we know where they've been all this time! Talking about hiding skeletons in the closet. Well, basement."

"Would you stop joking around and help?" Banshee screamed, "He could die right now!"

Hunter base sighed. "Okay, I'm coming…" He froze then sat back down. "Wait, if there are dead bodies in there… who killed them?"

The two rolled their eyes. "The Baron, idiot! He beat his slaves to death sometimes!"

"Yeah but…is there any, like, fleshy ones?"

Night Owl shook his head and looked at his camera. "Really dude?" He sighed in defeat knowing full well what he was being asked to do. "Ghost Bane! What kinda bodies do you see? Skeletons?" He threw the rope down and started to position himself and anchor the rope.

Ghost Bane looked around and realized the bodies were more blackish. Preserved…like mummies yet to be wrapped. "No…they…look dried out."

He noticed something nearby. He approached flashing his flashlight over to the strange silhouette to see some half-burnt candles and, upon closer inspection, a circle with a star. Some images were at the points and at the center…a cane.

"Oh my god…Guys it was all real! The pentagram, its here!" He shouted. "And that means…" he reached out. "This is the Baron's cane."

"Dude, leave it!" Night Owl shouted.

Banshee swallowed and looked up at Night Owl. "Jake." Night Owl stopped hearing his real name be said. "If the rumors are true…doesn't that mean…"

Night Owl looked at the entrance to the basement once more. "Where's the Baron…and the other ghosts?"

As if on que, the sound of chains could be heard. The wind blew a little harder, just enough to close the doors behind them. Banshee's flashlight began to flicker as Night Owl's turned out. They fought with their flashlights and Night Owl shouted. "Ghost Bane! Climb out already! We gotta go man! We got our proof, come on!"

There was no response. Banshee ran for the door and tried to open it. "Oh my god! We're trapped! It's locked!"

Night Owl dropped the rope to try it himself. They beat against it and Banshee tried calling Hunter Base for help. But on the other side, he was already trying to beat against the door. Feed had cut out on all three and he ran through the heavy rain that seemed upset by the intruders. He couldn't get the door open either.

"Guys? Guys! Open the door! Can you hear me?" He shouted, but the rain and the thunder drowned him out and he couldn't even hear the other side.

Banshee and Night Owl's backs had pressed against they heard the sound of a chain rattle. Heavy breathing had also made them tense. A light from another side of the manor was coming from what looked like a kitchen door if the silhouette was anything to go off of. Night Owl picked up a coat hanger and stepped in front of Banshee. They waited for the thing to show itself. A scream from the basement distracted them.

Ghost Bane was forced back against the wall as ominous light began to react to his touch. The cane rose up and a skeleton clothed in an old Civil War suit started to claw its way out of the pentagram. Ghost Bane tried to move and get away, but he couldn't. The figure finally managed to grip its cane and continued to crawl out of the ground and stand on its shoes.

Ghost Bane widened his eyes as he saw the thing fix its jaw and regenerate some of its skin to become a disfigured, tormented face with little to say it was once human. It screamed at him and he could barely whisper under his breath. "The Baron."

"Trespasser!" It shouted. "You…will be…punished!" The voice was barely human. It was raspy, growling and twisting. His cane raised as he approached with a limp and struggle. He fell once but rose up and hovered. His neck had broken as he landed but once he reached the air it slowly broke into place. Ghost Bane watched in horror as the Baron neared him. There was nothing he could do but wait for the blow of his punishment.

Night Owl and Banshee stared in horror as the figure had made its appearance. It was a rotted with a face stretched longways and frozen in horror with chains for eyes that had traced behind him and traveled to the hooks that replaced his forearms and hands. But the chains traveled lower still as they attached to the legs it was cursed with that were little more than metal fence bars with spiked tips as feet. Its left hand carried a lantern that barely managed to stay on the rusty hook. It elevated is lantern and seemed to eye them curiously. Then it screamed and started to approach. Another twisted creature was beginning to climb down the stairs. Its hands were for legs and legs for hands. The hands did the walking and its legs were nothing but bludgeons. It had started to kick with its feet for hands and wobble closer as well. Two more had come from other doors. On had no legs and the other had no hands. The handless one was bound by the feet by the chains in its bones connected by the ankle. The feet were still like that of a human's, but the rest was burnt to a crisp and seemingly skinned here and there. the legless one dragged its innards across the floor as it crawled. The hands were broken, each finger in a different direction but it still managed to grip a knife that had come from the kitchen. They crawled closer still not able to approach as fast as they want. Then spectral beings with many different faces just as twisted, just as deformed had started crawling from walls, frames, windows, and even the floor. It was hopeless to the two hunters. They were doomed.

Hunter Base pounded and beat at the door. He realized how hopeless it was and slowly backed away. "What have I done?" He started to cry and grip his head. "What have I done!"

A hand gripped his ankle as he started stepping into the mud. The hand pulled and suddenly it was as if he were sinking in a tar pit. He screamed and tried to grip something that was rooted enough to stop him but only mud had gathered into his hands and nothing could save him. He felts his chest grow cold and covered. His neck was next, then his chin. Finally he took a breath with hope he could still escape, and his head sank. He stretched out his hand as if to grab onto something, but it was hopeless. There was nothing to grip onto.

Suddenly he felt something grab his outstretched hand. It grabbed by the wrist harshly and by his sleeve. The grip pulled, somehow stronger than the force pulling his ankle. Two hands gripped him. Then three. As soon as his head surfaced, a fourth. His friends? But how? No, it was impossible.

Finally, he could breath. He tried to pull free his hand so he could pull himself out but the hands insisted they keep a grip.

"Get his other side!" Shouted an unfamiliar voice.

Two hands left his right arm to grab his left and both sets pulled. He then heard a gargled groan as whatever was pulling his was unhappy with the progress made. It had suddenly stopped as a gunshot rang. The pull had stopped. The rain cleared the mud off his hands and eyes a bit, but he continued to wipe them clean. He looked up to see two hooded figures staring down at him. One of them had a four barreled shotgun and the other had a woodcutting ax with a silver head.

"How many?" Asked the one with the ax.

"H-how many?" Asked the timid geek as he shivered in the rain.

The shotgun kneeled and answered, "How many of you idiots are there?"

The geek completely ignored the insult and replied, "F-f-f-four."

The shotgun looked up at his partner and raised four fingers. The axe nodded then fast walked with his partner towards the door. He turned towards his partner. "What do you hear?"

"They're at the door, we'll do this your way." He placed a hand on the door. "There doesn't appear to be a ward on the door so a vanguard isn't necessary." He broke his barrel to replaced the shell he had fired.

The axe nodded and positioned to kick the door open. "And what are we dealing with?"

The shotgun shrugged. "I don't know, all I hear is screaming."

The Axe smirked and kicked the door open. The door had come rather easy to him. He took his woodcutting ax and flipped it a few times as he stepped inside. Under the door were two of the three "idiots" that had been referred to. They crawled back and got a good view of the hooded figures. "Sorry, but you were in the way," He said taking his hood off. He looked up at the souls and the twisted ghouls that were initially crawling closer. "You should have stayed dead." He approached the closest creature and hacked it before it could attack. The spirits that rose from the ground began to fly in chaos and scream. The shotgunner ignited a glowing light in his left hand then forced it into his shotgun. He shot into the air, each shell turned into a cluster of golden stars that melted away the flying spirits. He fired his last shell and tossed his shotgun up to flip it over. The stock was silver plated, but with a press of a button the stock extended three sharp, silver blades, turning it into an axe. The two-armed ghoul was his first victim. More had come as the commotion had gotten their attention. The axman and the shotgunner fought skillfully and guarded the two jealously from the spirits and creatures the crawled and crept. The faces that already looked in horror had screamed in terror as the table had turned on them and captured them in their own trap.

The ghost hunters so busy that they didn't notice the hooked hand lantern bearer creep behind them until it screamed then lifted a hood for a strike. The two turned and screamed, hugging each other as the hook was coming down. The Axman had forced his ax into another ghoul when he heard the screams. He twisted the handle of his axe and pulled, and a trigger had been pulled out of the axe head. he took aim and fired, nailing a shot straight between the creature's chains for eyes. It fell back and started writhing. The shotgunner finished with his side and approached the ghoul. His boot stomped on the lantern of the creature and suddenly it had stopped moving. He grunted then kicked the lantern away, reloading his shotgun and turning to face hia partner who had finished the last of the ghosts.

"These were summoned here. The ghouls were made. There's a lich here," said the axman.

"You mean the Baron?" Asked Banshee.

"The Baron?" Asked the shotgunner in a chuckle. "You mean the slave owner? The fool was no baron. That was just a somthing added to embellish his story. He only had three slaves and. Hardly a baron's property in the Civil War."

"But his spirit was still strong enough to become a lich," The axman reasoned. "He must have sold his soul far before he even owned any slaves."

"His kill count was high, according to the chroniclers," The shotgunner said as he closed his shotgun and retracted his blades.

The axman was just finished loading the gunpowder of his axe's musket. he placed a bullet inside and used a rod from the grip of the ax to push it down. "Yes, they also said the location was clear and that our hunters taken care of the problem. The hunters we sent back then must not have finished the job here like they thought." The Axman sighed and shook his head as a hand was placed a the bridge of his nose. "That's why you check every room. I stress this every time."

The Shotgunner also shook his head. "Yes, yes, I've heard it many times, my friend. I see two of you, where's the third?"

Night Owl widened his eyes."The basement!" He raced over and pointed at the door. "There's a pentagram in the basement…. And…Alex! He's in there!" Night Owl shouted down inside the basement. "Alex!"

A hand pulled him back, "Let me handle it."

The Axmen jumped down, not even bothered the spiders were there. They had recoiled and crawled away; afraid he would crush them. The reaction itself had freaked Night Owl out, but also seemed to say something about this Axman.

The Axman landed on the basement floor and reached inside of his coat at his back, pulling out a cross. As soon as he saw the boy pinned to the wall, being beaten by the cane of so-called Baron, he threw his ax into the baron's back.

The Baron screamed and let Alex go. He was limp and unable to move any more than a roll. He couldn't make much more than more than a groan. The Axman approached the baron and retrieved his ax then continued to hack at the baron's body. Each time making him scream and tearing him apart. He mercilessly continued until he finally took his cross and implanted it into the Baron's chest. "Return to hell and stay there." The pentagram sucked the Baron inside its chasm and once he was sealed away the axmen lifted the cross once more with both hands and bowed his head. Alex could understand none of the words that he had seemingly prayed but once done the cross had lit up and the pentagram faded into nothing, the candles being melted into the floor and the paint and the bodies around it had even turned to ash. As soon as the ritual was done, the axman whispered a quick. "Amen." Then placed his cross into his coat again. He turned and faced Alex who was groaning in pain.

"You were very lucky we arrived the time we did. A few more seconds and he would have turned you into a ghoul." The Axman chuckled. "Trust me, that is not a pleasant journey to venture, friend." He picked the boy up bridal style then yelled to the above ground. "Do you have rope up there?"

"I do, I secured it to the banister," Night Owl replied.

"The banister won't hold anything," The shotgunner protested, shouldering his shotgun. He took the rope and began instructing the two, "Help me pull them. Grip the rope and keep a steady hold. Don't let it pull you forward. Go ahead, it's with you!"

The axman found it and took the rope without hesitation then slowly ascended with the help of the three above. He put Alex down for the two to tend to him.

"Alex," Banshee came to his side and stroked his hair. She tucked a jacket beneath his head. "We can't thank you enough."

"Thank us?" Asked the shotgunner, "You shouldn't have even been here 'thanking' us. What are you four doing here? Did the stories mean nothing to you?"

"We didn't know," Night Owl, or Jake as he was now being known as, said to them. "We just hunt for ghosts; we didn't know they would actually attack us like that. maybe move somethin' or make weird sounds like the videos, but..."

"Hunt?" The axeman nearly chuckled.

Jake looked them up and down and corrected himself. "Well, were more like ghost seekers. You guys are the hunters… I guess."

"Well, he's honest," The shotgunner said to the axeman.

"Who are you guys?" Asked Banshee. "What are your names?"

"You first. I know this one is Alex. But what are the two of you?" The Axman returned.

"Well...I'm Jake. This is Phoebe," Jake introduced as he pointed.

"And the one out there?" Asked the shotgunner.

"Oh my god, Charlie! He's still out there!" Phoebe exclaimed.

The Axman nodded at the Shotgunner and left the building. Shortly, he came back with the poor quivering Charlie. "He's alright. Just a bit cold. He's catatonic. Didn't even know I was touching him." The shotgunner knelt down then placed a hand on Charlie's head pressing his forehead to his then whispered a quick mumbled prayer in a foregin language.

Jake squinted and whispered to Phoebe, "I think he's speaking Latin."

The moment he pulled his head back Charlie blinked and looked around. "What…what happened? Where am I?"

"Your safe, and indoors," The axman replied, "And soon, returning home. But before that you four better get him to the hospital."

"Are you sure? We could call for a cleric. Katie's available at this time of night." The shotgunner insisted.

The axemans shook his head, "No, let them learn from his pain. That way they know never to do this again. Your ghost seeking days are over, do you hear? You may not be so lucky as to encounter us or any of our kind again."

"'Our kind?'" Jake asked, "You mean there's more of you?"

The axman turned before exiting the door, "Yes, but not enough to protect you. Let's go."

"Wait!" Phoebe stood up. "You didn't tell us your names!"

The Axman stopped again then faced them. "I know." He left, his partner following behind him. With any other reasoning defeated, she returned to tending to Alex.

"That was mysterious of you, Chase," Said his partner, smirking under his cloak as he mounted his horse.

Chase, the axman, smirked and replied, "Marshall, since when have we not been mysterious? We don't exist, remember?"

Marshall chuckled. "Well, for someone who doesn't exist, I'll say we made our existence rather known in front of those college students."

Chase chuckled and mounted his horse after pulling his ax in a sheath on his saddle. "Who's going to believe them?" Marshall shrugged. He was right in that regard. Not many believed in what they could not understand. Let's return to the Hollow. We should report to Ryder. He's probably wondering where we decided to disappear off to this time." Chase pet his horse and clicked his tongue, "Let's go, Leopold."

Marshall chuckled and did the same. "Come on, Nancy. Time to go home."

The two hunters road off in the rain. The thunder was silent, the wind was quiet, and the house that was once an estate for a twisted Baron, was now yet another empty shell that had rotted away in history, with nothing but a story that would scare children in the night.


End file.
